01x15 - Millionaire Astro

[bunniefuu]

N Meet George Jetson N'

N His boy Elroy N

N Daughter Judy N

N Jane, his wife NM

The Jetsons.

Brought to you by...

Our story begins here
at the Spacely Space Sprockets factory,

where this faithful dog
is patiently waiting

for his beloved master
to complete a long day's work.

Oh, boy!

Hold it!
Hold it!

Sorry, pal. Things are rough,
rough all over.

But we got company rules.

No dogs allowed
beyond this point.

Get the point?

Say... aren't you Jetson's dog?

Yeah.

Well...
Go right in.

Thanks.

Shee! What ever happened
to toy poodles?

Oh, boy, oh, boy. This is the last
time I'm gonna work overtime.

Getting home at three
in the afternoon is k*lling me.

Leaving, Mr. Jetson?

Yeah, I'm b*at.

When I get home, I'm gonna
relax in a nice hot tub

of sound waves.

Goodnight, Miss Ribbits.

Goodnight, Mr. Jetson.

Down, please.

Astro! Oh, no!
Now, how did you get here?

Hold it, boy! Hold it!

Easy now, easy.

Astro, what are you doing here?

I missed you.

Yeah. Well, I missed you too.

And I bet the whole family
is out looking for you.

Elroy, have you found Astro yet?

Not yet, Mom.

Gee. Do you think he got lost?

I certainly hope not.

Here, Astro.
Come on, boy.

Here, Astro!

Gosh, Mother! He just doesn't
seem to be anywhere.

I've even looked in the closets.

Poor Astro!

Maybe he got dognapped
or something, huh?

I don't know, Elroy.

But one thing's for sure.
He's gone.

It's your dad.

Poor dear, he'll be
heartbroken about Astro.

They were so close.

Come on, Astro,
come on, move over.

Can't you sit
in the car like other dogs?

Oh, let's face it,
you're a real Astro-mutt.

Yeah, an Ashe-mutt.

Well, we 're home, boy.

Let's go. Heel.

Heel! Heel!

Oh, for the love of...

Now, look, I know we're pals.
But you have a distorted view

of a man and a dog relationship.
You understand?

Yeah, sure.

- Oh, what's the use?
- Going up.

I don't know how to tell
your dad Astro's gone.

Break it to him gently, Mother.

Shh, here he comes.

- I'm home.
- He's home!

- It's him!
- Hooray!

Boy, did we miss you!

Oh, heck.
It's only me.

Where was you, Astra?

We've been looking
all over for you.

You've been a naughty boy,
making us worry like this.

Aw, I'm sorry.

Aw, he says he's sorry, Mom.

Hey, what am I?
Chopped liver?

Oh, hello, George.

Hiya, Dad!

Yeah, hi, Dad.

Maybe I ought to grow some
long ears and a tail

to get some notice around here.

Oh, don't be silly.
We love you too.

Ha. Well, at least
I'm running a close second.

'You'll always be number
one around here, Daddy.'

Well, that's better.

I love you.

Well, it's nice to be loved,
but this is ridiculous.

Why don't you take Astro out
for a dog walk, dear?

While I fix dinner.

Not me.

Well, you're going
for a walk anyway.

So you can skip that snappy
back talk. Now, come on.

Come on! On your feet!

I don't wanna.

I don't wanna.

What are you blubbering for?

I don't wanna take a walk.

Of course you wanna take a walk.
These dog walks are fun.

I wish I had one.

Well, alright.

Hey, wait.

No, no. Astro, come back here.

Astro, where's George?

Help! Help, Jane!

Stop this crazy thing, will you?

Oh, dear. How does that man
get into fixes like that?

Hold on, George!

"Hold on," she says.

Shee!

Now, listen to me.
You're getting on that dog walk

if it's the last thing you do.

Oh, boy. I must have the only
juvenile dog delinquent in town.

Now spare me the sad
parting bit. Just go!

Take a walk.

I'm sorry.
Oh, I'm sorry!

Alright, alright.
So you're sorry.

You know, if this was on TV,
you'd win an Academy Award.

Now what?
Come in.

Mr. Jetson?

- Yeah?
- My name Is Withers.

I'm an attorney, representing
the fabulously wealthy

J.P. Gottrockets.

Um... do you have a dog,
Mr. Jetson?

What do you think this is?
My mother-in-law?

Is your dog five feet nine,
weight

and answers to the name
of Tralfaz?

Tralfaz?

Tralfaz?

Yuck!

My dog's name has been Astro
ever since we found him.

Yeah, Astro!

His name is Tralfaz, and here
is his pedigree to prove it.

What's wrong, George?

- Who's Gottrockets?
- What does that man want, Dad?

Oh, this character
says Astro isn't our dog.

That's right.

Mr. Gottrockets sent me
to bring Tralfaz home.

Tralfaz?

Yuck!

You can't take Astro.
He's happy here.

Yeah, I'm happy here.

Ha! You see?
He's happy here.

He'll be happier with
my fabulously wealthy client.

Tralfaz will have the very best.

A split level doghouse,
heated doggy pool,

seven course doggy meals
three times a day,

his own fur-lined fire hydrant.

He will live in the lap of luxury.

Well, of course. If that's what
Tralfaz... I mean, Astro wants.

You don't want any old private
swimming pool, do you, Astro?

You don't want any old
lap of luxury, do you?

Hmm... Uh-uh.

Yippee! He stays!

Well, that settles it.

Astro and I have our
differences, but if he leaves

it'll be over my dead body.

It may take a court
order for that.

But I'll get it.

Yeah, well, fine. In the
meantime, buzz off, will you?

I shall return!

Thank you.

Mmm, I wonder
if I made a mistake.

But what'll we do when
Mr. Withers returns, George?

Yeah, he'll try to take
Astro again.

Well, I could make it rough
for him and let him take Astro.

- Huh?
- George, be serious.

Hey, uh, couldn't we just
kind of hide Astro?

- Elroy, you're a genius.
- I am?

A regular chip
off the old block.

Operation "Hide Astro"
is about to begin.

And so, while operation
"Hide Astro" goes into action,

we go to the modest
suburban flat

of Mr. J.P. Gottrockets,

where J.P. awaits the next
move in the deadly game

of "Astro, Astro,
who gets Astro?"

Well, Withers.
I presume you found and returned

my dog Tralfaz.

Well, uh, eh...

Not exactly,
Mr. Gottrockets, sir.

Not exactly?
Now see here, Withers.

I didn't get to be filthy rich
by permitting my property

to be poached on
indiscriminately.

Oh, let's see.

Should I get a Miami, Honolulu,
or a Riviera tan today?

Oh, I guess a three-second
Miami tan will do it.

You'll pardon my saying so, sir,

but the dog seems to be
happy, uh, where he is.

I want that dog
returned at once.

Or you'll wind up
back on TV night court.

Is that clear?

Oh, no! Oh, no!

Not that, sir!
I'll do it.

Of course, it will mean
a custody fight in court.

I'II fight it down
to my last billion.

Now get moving.

Get a habeas corpuscle
or something.

At once, sir. A what, sir?

Meanwhile,
back at the Jetson home.

George, do you really
think it'll work?

Oh, sure it will. With this
old jacket and this hat

we'll pass him off
as our Uncle Charlie.

Not a bad fit, huh?

Now remember, Astro.
You're Uncle Charlie. You got it?

Got it.

Now, nobody sits like that.

Get up and sit like a man.

Like this?

Who is it?

It's me, Withers.

I've got a court order
to repossess Tralfaz.

Ooh. It's that mean man.

Oh, George.
What'll we do?

Quick, Elroy. Open the closet.
Astro, you go hide in there.

Okay.

Now, remember, don't make
a sound, Uncle Charlie.

Ouch!

Shh! Don't yell.

Ouch.

All set, Dad.

Okay, now everybody act natural.

Well, hiya, Mr. Withers.

Have you seen Ash- ?

Don't give me that.

I've come for the dog.

Ah, well, you see, he ran away.

Look, I've got no time
for hide-and-seek games.

Where are you hiding Tralfaz?

I tell you, he ran away.

Would I lie to you?

Yes. You know, the last place
anyone would hide a dog

is in the closet.

But you don't look too bright,
so I'll check in the closet.

Uh-oh, he's gonna find Astro.

Hello.

Oh, that's our Uncle Charlie.

He's a little on the
eccentric side.

What's eccentric?

With a face like that,
I'd hide too.

Good heavens.
What a dog face.

Eh? Dog?

Yoo-hoo!
Uncle Charlie?

Alright!

Oh, don't! No!
Uncle Charlie, wait!

My! What a long tail you have,
Uncle Charlie.

Uh-oh.

Quick, Astro.
Run for it!

Oh, no, you don't.

Excuse me, but did you see
a big dog go by here?

He went that way.

He went that way?
Thanks.

Oh, the things I go through

for a measly million dollar
retainer fee.

Hey! That was Tralfaz.

Alright, wise guy.
You're coming with me!

I'm warning you.

I never give up.

Help! Help!

Quick, George!
Do something.

Here comes that
terrible man again.

Elroy, find another hiding place
for Astro

while I keep that guy
from coming back.

Where, Dad? Where?

Where shall I hide him?

How should I know?
Put him in the..

Ah. There you are.

You know, I think we're carrying
this dog-lover bit too far.

Come back here, dog.

I've got you legally cornered.

Oh, no!

They've gone
right through the window.

There they are
on Astro's dog walk.

It's no use, Tralfaz.

I'll track you down
like a legal beagle.

And when I hit this stop button,
he better be a flying beagle.

Huh?

Yow!

Pretty sneaky, Jetson.

But I'll be back.

Now, where's that
car control unit?

Ah, here it is.

Calling my car. Calling my car.

Falling due south
on north side of building.

Get down here right away.
Over.

Of all the dumb cars, where were you
when the electronic brains

were passed out?

I'm through being reasonable,
Jetson.

You forced me into this.

I'm serving you
with this summons.

Okay, so you did.

Now, make like
the wind and blow.

Very well.

But remember, the wind
ofjustice blows an "I window

for those who deal in chicanery.

Now what's that
supposed to mean?

I don't know, it's just
something I picked up

in law school.

What do we do now, dear?

Oh, I don't know.

It'll take a Perry Spacen
to save Astro now.

Hear ye, hear ya. This
court Is now In session.

The first case
is J.P. Gottrockets

versus the Jetsons.

You may proceed.

Shouldn't we have
hired an attorney, George?

We can't afford one.

Well, the Jury-vac doesn't
look too sympathetic.

Oh, don't worry,
when Astro starts hamming it up

this will be an open
and shut case.

This better be an open
and shut case, Withers.

Or you'll have
an open and shut job.

Y-yes, sir.

Will the plaintiff
please take the stand?

Your Honor, my client,
the fabulously wealthy

Mr. Gottrockets,
maintains that this pedigree

bearing the name of Tralfaz,
alias Astro,

and fitting the description
of the said animal

is sufficient
and conclusive proof

that the dog is the property
of said client.

And briefly, Your Honor,
that is our case.

We will now hear
from the defendant.

So you see, Judge,
Astro has been with us so long that...

I object, Your Honor.

The defense is imposing
undue influence on the court.

Objection sustained.

That means scram!

Would the defense care
to call any witnesses?

Ah, yeah. I'd like to call
Astro to the stand.

Mr. Astro. Will you please
take the stand?

Will you tell the truth,
the whole truth, etcetera, etcetera,

and like that?

I M...

I object again, Your Honor.

The witness is a dog.

Overruled.

The court is not concerned
with the personality of the witness.

But Your Honor, he's a real dog.

You know, bow-wow.
Woof-woof-woof and so forth.

Oh, yeah. So he is.
Objection sustained.

Oh, nuts.

The clerk will strike the dog's
remark from the records.

And the Jury-Vac will disregard
the dog's testimony.

Now, Elroy, I want you to take
your time and tell the court

just how you first
acquired Astro.

Well, you remember, Pop.

It all began one day
down at the playground.

I was playing in the sand box,
looking for mineral deposits.

I had just dug this swell hole,
when all of a sudden

in rushed this big dog.

Help, save me!
Help, help!

Gee, fella, what is it?

What's wrong, boy, huh?

The dogcatcher.

The dogcatcher'

Quick boy, into this hole.
I'II save you.

Here, put on this hat
and try to act natural.

Okay.

Hey, you kids seen
a stray dog around here?

- A dog?
- Uh-uh.

Okay, thanks.

We did it.
You're safe, boy.

Thank you.
Thanks a lot.

You're welcome. Uh, don't
you have a home of your own?

Uh-uh.

Would you like to be my dog?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Then I brought him home
and he's been mine ever since.

Except now, I'm gonna lose him.

Now, now.
Now, now.

Now, see here, any more
outbursts like that

and I'll have to clear
the courtroom, understand?

And in conclusion,
I would like to point out

to this intelligent Jury-Vac
that the defense has failed

to refute the claims
of my client.

That the pedigree
is absolute proof

and therefore, the dog
is the property of my client.

Thus, we rest our case,
Your Honor.

The jury, having heard
the evidence, will now

scientifically deduce
its verdict.

Do you think
we have a chance, dear?

Well, put it this way.

You can start calling Astro
by his new name Tralfaz.

Has the Jury-vac
reached a verdict?

Yes, Your Honor.

I might add, Withers,
your job hangs in the balance.

The jury awards the dog
to Mr. Gottrockets.

Hooray! We did it!
Hooray! We did it! Yippee!

Good work, Withers.
Yourjob is safe.

For another month.

Oh, you're all heart, sir.

Thank you, sir.

I'm sorry, old pal.
I... I did my best.

Of course, the defendants
will be permitted reasonable

visiting hours.

Case closed.

Come on, Tralfaz.
We're going home.

I've got your room
all fixed up for you.

So long, Astro.

Goodbye, Astro.

It won't be so bad.

You'll be a rich dog
from now on.

Yeah. And we'll visit you
every chance we get, Astro.

You can forget that Astro stuff.

From now on,
your name is Tralfaz.

Tralfaz.

Yuck!

And so, Astro, that is, Tralfaz

was doomed to a life of dull,
depressing wealth and luxury

at the home of the fabulously
wealthy Mr. J.P. Gottrockets.

He had everything
a dog could want.

A private doghouse
with all necessary

or incidental accessories.

And outside, he had his own
private, circular dog walk.

The finest foods were readily
available at paw's length.

How about that!

But poor Astro was not happy.

He felt lost
In the lonely new world.

And he missed
his beloved Jetsons.

Only two things
made Astro happy.

One was his daily romp
with Gottrockets.

Down, boy. Down! Down!
Heel! Heel! Down!

Yeeowch!

Ooh, that's six pairs of pants
you've ruined this week.

The other thing that
made him happy was visiting hour.

Tell me, how are they
treating you, pal?

Not bad.

Then, one day..

Oh, Tralfaz.
It's visiting hour again.

Hi, Astro.

- Hello, boy.
- It's us, Astro.

Here, boy.

Yippie!

Alright, Astro.

I'm glad to see you, too.

We sure miss you, Astro.

I miss you, too.

Just look at them, Withers.
I think we've been wrong.

Taking that sweet dog
from those nice people.

Would we hurt our corporate image
if we gave him back?

It would make
everybody happy, sir.

Besides, it could make
things a lot easier

on my personal image.

Oh, I agree, sir.

And I'll arrange
the papers right away.

Well, so long, pal.
We'll be back next week.

Oh, Mr. Jetson.
One moment, please.

Mr. Gottrockets has decided
to present Tralf... Astro

to you as a gift.

Huh?

Here are the papers, sir.
Astro is now legally yours.

Why, it's true.

Astro belongs to us.

Come on, boy.
You're going home.

Yippie!

I'm going home.
Yippie!

Rippie! I mean, yippie!

Give Mr. Gottrockets
our thanks, Withers.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

N For he's a jolly good fellow N

N For he's a jolly good fellow N

N For he's a jolly good fellow N'

Which nobody can deny NM

Which nobody can deny NM

The Jetsons.

Brought to you by...

Help! Help!

Jane, stop this crazy thing.

Jane!

Help! Jane!